


It was only fair.

by daienkaixoxentei



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Don't Kill Me, Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Oops, Suicide Attempt, i'm sorry i did a thing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-02
Updated: 2017-01-02
Packaged: 2018-09-14 08:30:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9170959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daienkaixoxentei/pseuds/daienkaixoxentei
Summary: Iwaizumi Hajime is doing his best to forget, even though Oikawa Tooru is absolutely perfect and he had been doomed for failure since the beginning. But soon the bittersweet memories won't matter anymore, so perhaps that is okay.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I was listening to mikoto suoh's theme from project k and felt extraordinarily despondent. I just HAD to release my pent-up teenage angst somehow, and this is the unfortunate result. Whoops. I hope you like it, though, because I put my blood, sweat and tears into it. Enjoy!

_“Iwa-chan, you won’t ever forget me, will you?_

_Because I won’t, ever. Even though it won’t really matter once this is over, I want that to be established. But I don’t really have to ask you if you’ll forget me, do I?”_

Here, the slightest of smiles.

_“I already know you won’t be able to forget me. I’m irresistible.”_

A laugh.

_“But I really, really, really do love you. Even though I’m outgoing and flirty and too gorgeous for my own good, and you’re kind of angry and aggressive at times…_

_“I’m glad we were able to share this with one another. Aren’t you?”_

Tears in their eyes.

_“Iwa-chan, you’re always glaring at me. Won’t you smile for me, just this one last time?”_

 

(Dwelling on these bittersweet memories is what led him to this misery in the first place. He is unable to stop the recollection of these memoirs, but he feels a strange twinge of relief.)

(Soon, nothing will matter.)

(Not the sweetness, nor the bitterness.)

(The memories will haunt him no more.)

(He was doing his best to forget.)

(It was only fair.)

 

The bitter numbness on his tongue spreads through his veins to his fingertips. The anguish fades away to darkness, along with the colors, along with the world. Even the sun becomes a watery blur before his eyes. He blinks, once, twice. The brightness of the sun – so very like _his_ sun – induces an ache in his heart, in his head. There is a tightening in his chest, reminiscent to the pain in his heart.

The darkness will not free him, but to be saved is not what he seeks.

(No, to be saved is certainly not what he seeks.)

 

With a final sigh, Iwaizumi sinks deeper under the waves, disappearing within the gloom.

 

* * *

 

Iwaizumi Hajime is startled from his reverie with a jolt. He jumps, and then blinks drowsily as the world comes into focus before his eyes. It is snowing lightly, blanketing the empty street before him in a soft pile of snow. If it weren’t for the parka he finds himself wrapped in, Iwaizumi believes that he would most likely be freezing from the chill.

He exhales deeply, glaring suspiciously at the noticeable desolation of the street, wondering curiously about how and why he managed to end up standing in the middle of such a lonely avenue all by himself. When he sighs, the air crystallizes in front of his eyes and rises up into the pale violet sky with a soft rush.

Iwaizumi lifts his eyes to the sky just in time to see a sudden gust of wind blow the descending snowflakes away from his face. The gentle gust of the breeze fills his ears, and perhaps this is why he does not hear any footsteps approaching him before a warm hand suddenly slips into his numb fingers, startling him in the familiarity of the gesture.

Iwaizumi turns his eyes to the new arrival immediately, and his heart skips a beat.

“Oikawa.” He breathes out in gruff delight, hardly believing his luck. The boy in question smiles back at him amiably, his brown eyes every bit as warm and lovely as Iwaizumi remembered. “I didn’t know you would be here.”

Oikawa laughs wryly, a hint of mischief now glinting in the corner of his eyes. “Well, to be fair I’m quite surprised to be here as well.”

 _Iwa-chan_. The use of the nickname incites a strange feeling within him, a dull echo of pain and nostalgia. Iwaizumi suppresses this odd, fleeting sensation and scowls at Oikawa instead, far too ecstatic to be in the latter’s presence to be bothered by inconsequential emotions of the sort.

“That wasn’t what I was talking about,” Iwaizumi rolls his eyes. “Though that kind of nastiness is exactly why I’d assume you’d go to _the other place_ instead.”

“Hmm,” Oikawa hums cheerfully, unbothered by the jest. “You’ve always understood me more than anyone else, anyway, Iwa-chan.”

His heart skips a beat again. _Iwa-chan_.

Iwaizumi blushes faintly, though he masks his inexplicable embarrassment with another hasty glare. He might have retorted, but just them Oikawa squeezes his fingers gently and tugs on them meaningfully, slightly tilting his head. Iwaizumi raises a brow in askance at his knowing, enigmatic smile.

“Let’s go, then?” Oikawa says cheerfully, his smile widening. “I’ll show you the way.”

He wants to ask where, but curiously, surprising even himself, he decides against it. He feels the warmth emanating from Oikawa’s fingers dissipate as the brunette extracts his hand and takes a step forward into the snow-filled street.

Iwaizumi stands where he is, observing Oikawa’s retreating form for a fraction of a second, feeling that strange sense of wistful melancholy once more. Then, he shrugs it off again and follows after him into the mist of the wintry avenue.

* * *

Oikawa takes him to a lake.

When they come to a halt on the familiar gravelly shore, the snow is no longer falling. The sky is a pale violet, and the trees are lightly dusted with powdery snow. The picturesque scenery is mirrored on the still water – shockingly still unfrozen despite the arctic temperatures – and for an instant Iwaizumi is able to distract himself with the landscape. He is conversant with the location, and very much so, for this lake is where he and Oikawa had had their first kiss. They had been young, barely eighteen, and fresh out of high school eager and willing to face the world with their unbroken hearts and naïve ideals.

He wishes they could go back to that time. Everything had been simpler back then.

“I thought you would want to come here.” Oikawa’s voice is soft, hardly a murmur, but no less cheerful and sufficiently able to jolt him from his thoughts. “I know this place is special to you… to _us._ ”

With a soft groan, Oikawa brushes the last of the dusty snow from his jacket and sinks down into a sitting position on the granular bank. Iwaizumi tries not to show too obviously how strongly he is affected by the way Oikawa is smirking up at him invitingly, and follows suit, similarly collapsing onto the smooth rocks.

They allow the comfortable silence to fill the air, relaxing into the rockiness of the bank. Oikawa stares out nonchalantly at the mesmerizing setting, and Iwaizumi wonders vaguely if the former is aware of what a devastating effect his smile had on the erratic and vigorous beating of his battered and bruised heart.

Oikawa looks lovely, really, even more so than usual. Perhaps it is due to the influence of the location that he looks younger, fresher, and decidedly cheerful, but whatever the reason Iwaizumi finds his throat dry and his lungs out of breath every time he so much as glances at the brunette through his peripheral vision. There are roses in his cheeks due to the cold, and his brown eyes are wide and lively; his fanned out, halo-like brown hair the perfect frame for his mischievous smile.

Iwaizumi sort of wants to cry when he realizes how astonishingly beautiful Oikawa is (but then again, he always _had_ thought Oikawa was the most breathtaking creature he had ever seen, hadn’t he?).

“You’re staring at me, Iwa-chan.” Oikawa teases in a sly, sing-song voice, startling Iwaizumi from his muse. “Is there something you’d like to say?”

Iwaizumi’s scowl is back on his face, a striking juxtaposition to the crimson blush in his cheeks. “Nothing you don’t already know, idiot.”

Oikawa smiles, delighted by Iwaizumi’s jibe. “I _do_ look good today, don’t I?” He says gleefully. “You being here does wonders for my complexion, actually, so I blame you.”

Iwaizumi snorts, though his heart flutters at the obvious blatancy of Oikawa’s flattery. “I’ve lived with you, Oikawa. You practically having an _affair_ with the moisturizer is what does wonders for your complexion, not _me_.”

“Oh, but I don’t use moisturizer anymore, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa says wryly, now downright grinning due to his evident enjoyment of their banter. “But I still look great, don’t I?”

(But of course he wouldn’t _need_ moisturizer anymore. That had been a slip of the tongue, a mistake on Iwaizumi’s part.)

“You do.” He allows with appropriately reluctant gruffness, rolling his eyes again when Oikawa looks inexplicably pleased due to the compliment. When his vision refocused on Oikawa again, however, he does not have time to mask his affection with a jibe, for the brunette is already staring back at him, the enigmatic, knowing smile back on his face.

Iwaizumi feels breathless again under the intensity of his stare, but he finds it difficult to look away. All of a sudden he is very painfully aware of their fingertips brushing one another atop the gravel; of the smooth undulations in Oikawa’s neck as he breathes sensually in, then exhales softly out; of how there is a low fire in Oikawa’s eyes, akin to the warmth burning in his chest and ears and neck as he gazes helplessly into the other’s eyes. He does not recall which one of them leaned in first, but quite abruptly they find themselves leaning closer and closer towards one another.

Oikawa shuts his eyes, and Iwaizumi closes the small space between their lips with a soft gasp. Their lips meld against one another softly, hesitantly at first, as if they are _both_ afraid that any sudden movements might dissolve the reality of the moment into a dream. Then, their movements deepen into something stronger, something _sweeter_. Iwaizumi finds himself feverishly cupping Oikawa’s cheeks, angling his face so that he might be able to gain better access to the other’s lips as they drink each other in ardent kiss.

At length, Iwaizumi pulls away, emanating a relished sigh from the other. Both their cheeks are flushed.

Iwaizumi looks into the depths of Oikawa’s eyes, and feels a heightening sensation of wanting to cry. His thumb traces the lips he had been kissing moments before, and he feels his fingertips tingle with the intimacy of the action. All the traces of mischief has been eradicated from Oikawa’s eyes, and he is looking up at him now with desire and sadness and _hunger_ , but mostly, _mostly_ with raw, pure, undeniable _love._

“Iwa-chan…” Oikawa murmurs without so much as a hint of irony, and Iwaizumi realizes upon hearing his watery voice that he is not the only one presently wanting to cry. The wistfulness in Oikawa’s voice incites a thudding, familiar pain in his heart again, and he feels his chest tighten in anguish. His fingers are trembling around the brunette’s cheeks.

“Iwa-chan, you have to go back.” Oikawa whispers gently, daring to grace his lips with the smallest of smiles despite the tears in his eyes. “It isn’t time yet.”

Iwaizumi realizes what he is talking about and his eyes widen in _fear._ No, no, no… he can’t go back. He isn’t ready to lose Oikawa so soon again, not when he just got him back. His chest tightens even more, and he chokes on the air when he opens his lips to speak.

“I-I… I can’t.” He rasps back hoarsely, _miserably_ though he understood the truth in Oikawa’s statement. “I can’t do this _without_ you, Oikawa, that wasn’t our plan.”

“No,” Oikawa agrees softly. His hands fly up to his own face to cup around Iwaizumi’s quivering digits, stroking them soothingly. “That really, _really_ wasn’t our plan, but things don’t always go to plan, and you _know_ that, don’t you?”

Iwaizumi is silent, unable to speak. The memories of _that night_ come flooding back to him, tearing himself apart from the inside; the despair grips his heart and he can feel his body shake heavily as silent tears stream down his cheeks. Oikawa’s hands wrap around his and peels his quivering fingers off his cheeks. Their fingers intertwine familiarly, and Iwaizumi is plagued with a fresh wave of tears and anguish.

Oikawa surprises him here by pulling him close, drawing him into the comfort of his arms. His whole body shakes with heaving sobs as he buries his face in the familiar luxury of the brunette’s neck. He clings to the jacket Oikawa is wearing feebly, as if afraid that he might be torn away the moment he lets go. His shuddering gasps are all that fills the silence of the air for a long, long time.

“It really, really sucks, doesn’t it?” He hears Oikawa say softly. “What happened that night? And to think that if I had just been careful… if I had just bothered to _look_ before I crossed the street”—

“ _No_ , god damn you, don’t _dare_ fucking say that it was your fault,” Iwaizumi interrupts immediately, glowering at Oikawa instinctively. “I was _right there_ , I saw the truck coming. I could have _called_ you, could have pushed you out of the way…”

“What, and get crushed to death on my behalf?” Oikawa snorts disapprovingly. His eyes are solemn despite his teasing façade. “Like _that’d_ be any better. I’d be even worse off than _you._ ”

“But it isn’t _fair_ that it was you, damn it, it isn’t _fair_ that it was you instead of _me_!” He yells back miserably, _angrily,_ because it wasn’t, it _really_ wasn’t fair. Life is _never_ fair, he _knows,_ but it is only after that night that he realized how _mercilessly cruel_ the universe is to have torn him apart in such a vicious manner. But despite all of this he _knows_ Oikawa is speaking the truth, he _knows_ he has cheated Death to get here so early, he _knows_ he doesn’t belong here with Oikawa… at least, not yet.

“Nothing about this is _fair,_ Iwa-chan.” Oikawa says with a bitter smile. “Isn’t that why all this is so horrible in the first place?”

And to that, Iwaizumi has no answer. He exhales shakily, running both of his hands through his spiky hair. His eyes water again, and Oikawa becomes a blur of colors before him. At some point in his angry tirade, the pair has gotten to their feet, though Iwaizumi hardly recalls ever moving. Through his dazed tears and the mess of pale hues and shades that has now become his world, he feels Oikawa slip his hands into his fingers again.

“Well,” he hears him say in a falsely bright voice, “would you like to say goodbye to me, then? Properly, since you couldn’t, last time?”

Iwaizumi doesn’t respond. He numbly stares up at the pale sky, at the snow-covered treetops, and tries very hard not to look at Oikawa’s teary, smiling face through his periphery. He tries to forget all about Oikawa (though he knew he couldn’t) because it would all just be much harder for him to live on when he gets back if all he could think about is Oikawa, Oikawa, and Oikawa (though he wouldn’t even try not to). It was only fair.

Since Iwaizumi doesn’t answer, Oikawa speaks up instead.

“Fine, then.” He chirps with a determined sigh. “ _I’ll_ say goodbye, and you’re _obliged_ to listen, mm’kay?”

Again, Iwaizumi doesn’t respond. Oikawa continues, undeterred. He takes a deep breath.

“Iwa-chan, you won’t ever forget me, will you?” He begins softly, and then rapidly continues in the same breath. “Because I won’t, ever. Even though it won’t really matter once this is over, I want that to be established. But I don’t _really_ have to ask you if you’ll forget me, do I?”

Here, Oikawa gives him the slightest smile. Iwaizumi wants to cry again.

“I already know you won’t be able to forget me. I’m irresistible.”

Oikawa laughs. The sound cements itself in his brain, echoing alongside several years’ worth of happy, bittersweet memoirs they had shared together.

“But I really, really, really do love you. Even though I’m outgoing and flirty and too gorgeous for my own good, and you’re kind of angry and aggressive at times… I’m glad we were able to share this with one another. Aren’t you?”

He _is_ glad. He is unable to articulate it, but he _is_ glad. Oikawa must have understood, for Iwaizumi sees that he, too, is crying.

“Iwa-chan, you’re always glaring at me. Won’t you smile for me, just this one last time?”

In a daze, Iwaizumi lowers his eyes to meet Oikawa’s. He glares at him through his tears, but is unable to resist giving him the smallest of smirks. Oikawa smiles at him widely, sincerely, and his heart flutters once more.

(He would do his best forget, even though he was doomed from the start.)

(It was only fair.)

“That’s my Iwa-chan.”

_You’re an idiot, Oikawa._

“I… I love you, dumbass.” He chokes out hoarsely as the world begins to rush around him in a frenzy. The wind picks up, roaring and raging in his ears. He is barely able to hear the words Oikawa says when he speaks after pressing a soft, chaste kiss onto his lips; painfully reminiscent of that one first kiss they had shared on the lake all those fateful years ago.

“And I love _you_ , Iwa-chan.”

The wind blazes to a deafening level, the world tips over, and Iwaizumi finds himself inexplicably toppling back into the lake. He breaks the surface and sinks down, lower, lower, lower, into the darkness, feeling his chest tighten with the pain of his memories.

_Goodbye, Oikawa._

 

* * *

 

 Everything plays out in reverse. In some weird, fantastical fever dream, he sees an apparition of himself emerge from the water, breaking the surface of the lake. His hands are on his lips, and when his fingers sweep away from his face there are pills in his fingers. He sees himself dropping the pills onto his shaking fingers in reverse, the painkillers flying up into the bottle, one, two, three… fourteen, fourteen in total. The bottle is screwed shut. Tucked into his pocket. In reverse, he wades out of the lake and onto the gravely sand. He disappears into the trees and out of view.

 

* * *

 

 

Iwaizumi Hajime is vaguely aware of hands on his arms, dragging him out of the water. His eyes are closed, but he realizes it when he breaks the surface of the lake, when the brightness of the sun shines through his eyelids and light his world up in red. He is numb, from the cold and from the pills and from asphyxiation, dazed from the fantasy he has just experienced. He hears a siren in the distance and realizes that paramedics must have arrived on the scene. He wonders whether it is one of his friends or a coincidental passerby that must have seen his limp body in the water and called the police.

He does not care, for all he can think about is a certain, gorgeous head of halo-like brown hair, a boy with roses in his cheeks and the likenesses of both the angel and the devil hidden within his brown eyes. All he can think about is Oikawa Tooru, and how he, Iwaizumi Hajime will never see him again (not ever in this life, anyway).

(But he would do his best to forget.)

_“Iwa-chan, you won’t ever forget me, will you?”_

(Even though he was doomed to failure from the beginning.)

_“Because I won’t, ever.”_

(It was only fair.)

**Author's Note:**

> y'all are certified to kill me. thank you for reading!


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